repulsive.

“I’m as serious as a heart attack.” The girl responded, putting her elbows on the counter, looking his way. “Death as a punishment? Sounds evil. I like it.” She sid, a smirk taking over her face. She moved her hair out of her face before she had felt the need to add another comment. “A king like that will have riots left and right. Ever heard of Maximilien Robespierre?”

“Another one of my gracious role models. You’re educated in all the right people!” Snickering to himself, he sends a quick wink, nonchalantly opening the milk and drinking straight from the container. “Rioting can be taken care of by fear, however. Copious amounts of fear. Scare ‘em to literal death, then you’ve got yourself a loyal kingdom right under your shoe! Think of the possibilities.”

“Man, Kanye was asking all the right questions, don’t you think? What’s a king to a god? Golden. Then again, “what’s a god to a non-believer?” is the retaliation, which is completely contradictory. Personally, I’d call being a king. Who can refute your power then? No one. If they do, hey, I don’t think anyone would mind if a few heads roll. Oh, also– where’s the milk?”

“Kanye? What in the hell are you talking about? And yeah sure, being king really works out great. Just ask any Shakespeare play.” Landon rolled his eyes before making his way to the fridge. “Oh hey look, milk. Right there, at the top, directly in front of your face.” He pointed to the judge of milk. “And if you’re still confused, it’s the giant jug that says ‘Milk’.” 

“Landon, you silly goose. Fooled me good. What a magic trick, appeared right before my eyes.” Eccentric, he closes the fridge after snatching the jug up, chuckles passing just under his breath. “Also, you know, Kanye? Kanye West. Future president. Literal music God. My role model! Do yourself a favor, buddy, educate yourself. You won’t regret it.”

“Man, Kanye was asking all the right questions, don’t you think? What’s a king to a god? Golden. Then again, “what’s a god to a non-believer?” is the retaliation, which is completely contradictory. Personally, I’d call being a king. Who can refute your power then? No one. If they do, hey, I don’t think anyone would mind if a few heads roll. Oh, also– where’s the milk?”

Abigail wasn’t going to lie, she kind of wasn’t paying attention to what the dark haired boy was saying, but she did hear enough of it to respond to what he was saying. “Why be a king when loads of people are out to get them anyways? And I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only people in this town that actually listen to what Yeezus says.” The young woman sighed before pointing to the inside of the fridge. “It’s behind the takeout food.”

“Abigail. Let’s be serious for a minute here.” Promptly removing the milk from behind the boxes, he shoves them back into place, leaning back against the counter. The gallon serves as something to gesture with for now, stupid grin widening. “A king’s rule can only get so far, sure. But their rule is always adhered to by someone. Death to those who aren’t compliant. Everyone wins!”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You’re a doll. Seriously! Thanks.” Grinning, Norman leans on the counter with his elbows, setting his mug down and lazily pouring milk into his coffee. He adds a little more than too much, pressing the edge to his lips to his cup in a sip before breaking into speech. “You don’t what? Agree? That’s alright, not a big deal. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.”

Max smiled shyly while he cleaned up the drops he had spilled, blushing slightly at the other’s words. He momentarily wondered why he bothered to order a coffee if he was just going to add this much milk, but it wasn’t up to him to question people’s habits. “No, I.. I don’t really understand what you’re talking about.” He confessed. “Did something happen that I should know about?”

“Oh, oh oh oh, let me explain, yeah?” Shaking his head as if it’s his fault, he waves a friendly hand in front of his face in order to dismiss any other chatter. “I’m talking about our one and only savior, Yeezus. Kanye. Being a king is obviously superior here, seeing as non-believers can simply overlook a god, yes? Otherwise, you’re just fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Man, Kanye was asking all the right questions, don’t you think? What’s a king to a god? Golden. Then again, “what’s a god to a non-believer?” is the retaliation, which is completely contradictory. Personally, I’d call being a king. Who can refute your power then? No one. If they do, hey, I don’t think anyone would mind if a few heads roll. Oh, also– where’s the milk?”

“I– I don’t– “ Max almost dropped the teacup he was holding as he struggled to follow what the other male was talking about, feeling utterly lost and stupid. He put down the cup and disappeared behind the counter to grab a pitcher of milk from the fridge. “S-Sorry.” He mumbled as he sat the milk down onto the bar, luckily only having spilled a little bit due to his trembling hands.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You’re a doll. Seriously! Thanks.* Grinning, Norman leans on the counter with his elbows, setting his mug down and lazily pouring milk into his coffee. He adds a little more than too much, pressing the edge to his lips to his cup in a sip before breaking into speech. “You don’t what? Agree? That’s alright, not a big deal. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.”